The boys enjoyed the film immensely and at the end of it discussed the juiciest bits over a joint.
‘Birds are slags. That film proves it. I mean, what sort of person would shag animals for money?’ said Charlie.
Kevin thought about this. ‘I dunno. Weren’t that how AIDS was started – by shagging sheep? I’m sure I saw that on the internet.’
Charlie ignored his pal’s question and slapped him on the back.
‘What me and you need, mate, is some real pussy. Watching it on films is all right, but we need to get ourselves some of the real thing.’
‘You’re right,’ Kevin agreed.
Finishing the spliff, Charlie put on his Puffa jacket. ‘Leave the pussy to me, I’ll sort us out. Look, I’d better go now, I’ve gotta get my bus. I’ll ring you tomorrow.’
As he walked towards the bus stop, Charlie saw a young blonde girl on the other side of the road. Slag, he thought, as he clocked her short skirt and white stilettos. The fucking whore was asking for trouble, walking about like that.
Feeling his cock rising, he imagined grabbing her and shoving himself right up that short skirt of hers. It’d serve her right.
Aware that she was being stared at, the girl glanced in his direction. Charlie put his hands over his cock, made a thrusting movement with his hips and waved his tongue at her. Frightened, the girl quickened her step and ran towards the safety of her home.
TWENTY-SIX
DEBBIE AND STEVE were awoken early on Christmas morning by two excited little girls, impatient to open their presents.
‘Charlie,’ Debbie said, knocking on his door. ‘we’re going downstairs to open the presents. You coming, love?’
‘Later,’ was the gruff reply.
The girls squealed with delight as they ripped the paper off the abundance of gifts supposedly delivered by Santa. Nudging Steve, Debbie urged him to show them their big surprise.
‘Mummy and Daddy have got something special out the back for you, girls. Shall we go and see what it is?’
Gracie and Rosie screamed excitedly as they followed their parents to the field at the back of the house.
Their little faces were a picture when they saw the two ponies in the newly built stables. ‘Are they really ours, Daddy?’ Rosie asked.
‘Can we keep them forever, Mummy?’ Gracie pleaded.
‘Yep, they’re all yours.’ Steve squeezed Debbie’s hand. He loved his girls more than anything on earth, and making them and Debbie happy meant the world to him.
‘I’m gonna call mine Britney,’ Rosie piped up.
Laughing, Debbie tried to usher them indoors.
‘You can go back out and see them later, after dinner. Louise who lives down the road is going to look after them for you. She’ll teach you all you need to know. She already works as a stablegirl and me and Daddy have asked her to help you with your ponies. She’s promised to pop in later to feed them, and tomorrow she’ll start to teach you how to ride.’
Charlie scratched his genitals, let out a fart, and ventured over to the window. He could hear the commotion outside. It had woken him up. Clocking the ponies, he immediately guessed that they were Christmas presents for the two spoiled brats. He hated animals, always had done. They were a waste of space; all they ever did was piss, shit and eat.
Slinging on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt, he smiled to himself as he walked down the stairs. He could use his sisters’ Christmas presents to blackmail them. ‘Do this for me, Rosie.’ ‘Get this for me, Gracie … ’ And when they said no, he would threaten to dismember the bastard creatures.
‘Morning, love. What you laughing at?’ Debbie asked, surprised to see her son looking cheerful for once.
‘Nothing. Do us some breakfast, Mum.’
It was an order, not a request. Rustling him up a couple of sausage sandwiches, Debbie put the sauce on for him, just the way he liked it.
‘When you’ve eaten that, love, come into the lounge and open your presents.’
Wiping his plate clean with the last bit of bread, Charlie sauntered into the front room and was relieved to find there was no sign of his stepdad or sisters.
‘Where is everyone?’
Debbie handed him his gifts and waited for him to open them. ‘Steve’s gone to pick Nanny and Granddad up. The girls have gone with him.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ Charlie said, after he’d unwrapped the last present.
‘I didn’t really know what to get you this year, love. That’s why I gave you mainly money. I thought you’d appreciate buying your own stuff now.’
Glad he had his mum to himself, even if only for a little while, Charlie experienced one of his rare sentimental moments. These didn’t happen very often. Throughout the entire course of his life, he could count them all on one hand. Smiling, he walked towards Debbie and awkwardly gave her a hug.
‘Happy Christmas, Mum.’
Unable to remember the last time he’d voluntarily put his arms around her, Debbie had tears in her eyes as she watched him walk away up the stairs, carrying his gifts. He wasn’t a bad lad, bless him. He was just a typical teenager, all mixed up and confused.
Steve arrived home with the girls, June and Peter, and they were followed in by Mickey, Karen and the kids, who had turned up nigh on the same time.
‘Oh, Debs, I love that handbag,’ Karen said, spotting the Prada that Steve had bought her.
Debbie adored her sister-in-law. They were like best friends and often shopped and lunched together.
June grabbed Peter’s arm to give him a grand tour of the new house. He’d seen it before, but not since it had been redecorated.
‘Very nice, dear,’ he said, showing little real enthusiasm. He’d have liked to have reminded his wife that the property had probably been paid for with ill-gotten gains.
‘Don’t she look stunning, Karen?’ Debbie said, looking enviously at Lois.
Karen put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and replied quietly, ‘Don’t tell Mickey but she’s been spotted by some model agency. They approached her in Romford and want her to go up town for a photo-shoot. She’s so shy, though, Debs – she’s not sure if she wants to do it. I won’t broach the subject with Mickey until she’s decided if she’s going. He’s so protective of Lois, it ain’t worth causing World War Three until we know if she wants this or not.’
June, playing the hostess as usual, got everyone a drink. Debbie, being a lazy cow, was only too happy to let her mother do the honours. But spotting June sneaking a duster out of the cupboard, Debbie politely asked her what planet she was on.
‘But I’ve just spotted some dust on the rungs of the dining chairs, dear.’
‘Mum, you don’t have to do your Mrs Bucket bit now, you know. I have a cleaner who comes in twice a week,’ Debbie said indignantly.
‘You should sack her then, dear. She’s obviously not doing her job properly.’ Debbie and Karen roared with laughter at this. June would find fault with Buckingham Palace if she was allowed in there for the day.
Steve and Mickey sat at the kitchen table, having a brief discussion about the new club’s takings. Opening a bottle of bourbon, Steve handed his brother-in-law a tumbler.
‘To us,’ they said, clinking their glasses together. Their businesses were raking it in. Both money-oriented, they couldn’t have been happier with the way things were going.
‘Mum, quick, look at Alfie! He’s dancing.’
Debbie turned around to see her nephew swinging his hips to a Justin Timberlake tune. ‘Oh, ain’t he cute, Karen? I love his little boots, where did you get them?’
‘Mickey got them in a shop up Roman Road. He idolises his boy. There’s not a week goes by when he doesn’t come home with an armful of presents for Alfie.’
Debbie took a sip of wine. ‘He used to be like that with Charlie when he was little. He was forever buying him stuff.’
‘Where is Charlie?’ Lois asked, desperate for someone of her own age to talk to.
�
��He’s up in his room, love. He’s probably on his computer, or playing a game of some sort. Go up and see him.’
‘He might not want me to,’ Lois replied, her shyness getting the better of her.
‘’Course he will,’ Debbie said, desperate for her son to have some company. ‘Last room on the right,’ she shouted as the girl walked up the stairs.
Karen felt a bit apprehensive as she watched her daughter leave the room. She didn’t like Charlie, never had done. Mickey had filled her in on his past and had always portrayed him as an evil little bastard.
‘Shouldn’t we give your mum a hand with the dinner?’ Karen asked, desperate to tell Mickey that Lois had gone up to Charlie’s room.
‘No, leave her. She’s happy as Larry while she’s cooking. We’ll only get in her way,’ Debbie said.
‘Who is it?’ Charlie asked, as he heard the gentle tap on his door.
‘It’s Lois.’
What the fuck does she want? he thought, logging off his chat room. Unwanted visitors were a fucking nuisance. Feeling pissed off, he yanked open the bedroom door. The sight of what stood behind it cheered him up in no time.
‘Christ, you look different,’ he stammered, lost for words at the change in her. It had been a year to the day since he’d last set eyes on Mickey’s stepdaughter, and she’d altered so much that had he walked past her in the street, he wouldn’t have recognised her. Gone was the plump girl with the dodgy braces on her teeth and fried eggs for tits. In her place was a slim absolute stunner with massive knockers.
‘Come in. Sorry about the state of me room,’ he said, frantically trying to tidy up.
Politeness and good manners oozed from Charlie as he did his utmost to impress. He wasn’t good around girls as a rule. He attended an all boys school so had very little dealings with them. He’d only ever had one girlfriend. She was called Lucy and he’d met her at a fairground when he was thirteen. The relationship had lasted all of two weeks. She’d dumped him, calling him a pervert for trying to shove his hand up her skirt.
‘So, what do you like doing? Where do you hang out?’ Charlie pried.
‘I don’t really go out a lot, not of a night. My mum and Mickey are quite strict. I’m allowed to go over to a friend’s house or they come round to me, but I’m not allowed out on the streets.’
‘What about weekends in the daytime and that?’ he persisted.
‘I normally go to Romford. Me and my friends love shopping and sometimes we go to the pictures or for a pizza,’ Lois replied, confused by his show of interest.
‘I’m in Romford a lot at weekends,’ Charlie lied. ‘Maybe we could meet up. Give me your phone number?’
Sitting opposite him, Lois felt embarrassed. She’d always looked upon him as a cousin, but could tell by the way he was staring down her top that he looked upon her as nothing of the sort. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she gave him her number. Her phone was in her hand, so she could hardly lie and say she didn’t own one.
Charlie eagerly rang her number and demanded she store his. Making a mental note never to answer his calls, Lois was relieved to hear her mum’s voice calling her.
‘Lois, your dinner’s ready!’
As Charlie grabbed hold of her arm, Lois felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ he replied. ‘I just wanted to say to you, don’t tell Mickey or your mum that we’ve swapped numbers. Keep it as our little secret.’
‘Okay,’ Lois said, relieved to be walking out of his room and down the stairs. Charlie had given her the creeps. She was determined never to be alone with him again.
The change in Charlie’s behaviour during the rest of the day was a shock to everyone. Charming and amiable, his manners were impeccable. He offered to help his nan wash up, assembled Rosie’s new toy, happily trotted outside to meet the new ponies and even joined in with some party games.
‘What’s got into him?’ June asked Debbie, on the quiet.
‘Oh, he’s a good lad really, Mum. He’s a typical teenager but a good boy deep down,’ she replied defensively.
Good boy, my arse, June thought. Conniving little bastard more like. Always had been and always would be.
Steve eyed his stepson suspiciously. He knew what game the boy was playing because he’d clocked him making eyes at Lois all day. Mickey was pissed, thank God, and hadn’t noticed. Steve was positive Karen had, though.
Not wanting to cause havoc for Debbie, Steve decided to keep schtum. Mickey would go apeshit if he clued him up and then there’d be a massive row. Ever-protective of her son, Debbie would stick up for him, and Steve would be bang in the middle of it. He’d have a word with Mickey on the quiet instead, when he was sober. He could tell by Lois’s behaviour that the feelings weren’t reciprocated. The poor little mare had spent the best part of the day averting her eyes from her admirer.
‘Let’s have a bit of Chas and Dave, Debs,’ June demanded, the drink as always bringing out the cockney in her.
As ‘Rabbit’ filled the speakers, Peter excused himself and went outside for a cigar. His wife’s behaviour was flawless in front of their own circle of friends, but as soon as she got with her family she behaved like a navvy. As for Chas and Dave … they should have been shot at birth, he thought. Peter was extremely cultured himself and loved nothing more than a bit of classical music. How anyone could listen to that cockney apples and pears rubbish when they could be listening to Beethoven was beyond his understanding.
‘Mum, Alfie’s fallen asleep on the kitchen floor,’ Gracie said, tugging at Debbie’s arm to stop her dancing.
Debbie was enjoying leaping about too much to stop. ‘Karen, Alfie’s crashed out. Take him upstairs and let him sleep in one of the bedrooms,’ she shouted at the top of her voice.
Karen went to tend to her son. ‘I don’t need your help, I can manage, Lois,’ she said as she noticed her daughter still glued to her side.
‘But I want to put Alfie to bed with you, Mum.’
Tucking her son in, Karen turned to face her daughter. ‘What’s the matter, love? You’ve been ever so quiet. Are you feeling okay?’
‘I’m fine, Mum,’ Lois lied. Part of her wanted to confide in her mother, tell her that Charlie had given her the heebie-jeebies, but considering he hadn’t actually done anything, she didn’t want to make herself look stupid. She daren’t tell her mum she’d given him her phone number. She’d already had her mobile confiscated once this year for giving her number to a weirdo on the internet.
Knowing her daughter better than she knew herself, Karen guessed what might be bothering her. ‘Is it Charlie? Did he say or do something to upset you when you were upstairs with him?’
Lois forced a smile. ‘Of course not, we were just talking about school and stuff.’
Relieved, Karen smiled and took her daughter by the hand.
What Lois didn’t know as she ventured downstairs to rejoin the festive celebrations was that if only she’d put her trust in her mother then, she would have saved herself a whole load of heartache to come.
TWENTY-SEVEN
WITH BOTH DINNER and supper out of the way, Charlie was desperate to get Lois on her own for five minutes. ‘Do you wanna come upstairs and play some computer games?’ he asked hopefully.
‘No, thank you,’ she replied, looking at the floor to avoid any eye contact with him. He’d been leering at her all day, freaking her out, and the last thing she wanted was to be alone with him.
Knees up, Mother Brown,
Knees Up, Mother Brown,
Under the table you must go,
E-eye E-eye E-eye O.
Mickey and Debbie roared as they saw their mother cocking her big old legs in the air. They rarely saw her inebriated, and when they did she was pure entertainment.
Glancing at his watch, Peter decided enough was enough. ‘Could you call us a cab, Debbie? I think it’s time I got your mother home.’
‘Oh, she’s all right, she�
��s just enjoying herself,’ Debbie replied indignantly, thinking what a boring bastard her step-dad was.
But Peter wasn’t taking no for an answer. He’d had enough of his wife acting like a Pearly Queen, and as for showing her knickers – that was the final straw.
‘I’m not arguing with you, Deborah. Just call me a cab, dear, will you? If your mother wants to stay here, she’s more than welcome. I personally wish to go home.’
Debbie decided to do as he asked rather than cause a row. It was the season of goodwill, after all.
‘What time are we going, Mum? Can we go soon?’ Lois whispered to Karen.
‘Are you tired, love?’ her mother asked, concerned by her daughter’s question.
‘Yes, and I’ve got a really bad headache.’
Gesticulating to Debbie to call a cab, Karen told Mickey that she was taking the children home, but said he was welcome to stay on and have a drink with Steve. Not trusting anyone who drove a mini-cab as far as he could throw them, however, Mickey wouldn’t hear of it.
‘I’m ready to go meself, babe. Why don’t we invite Steve, Debbie and the kids over to us tomorrow?’
Karen loved Debbie and Steve’s company and told her husband she’d be only too pleased to lay on a bash for them. Peter’s cab arrived first. June, feeling tipsy, decided she’d now had enough and decided to go home with him.
‘Thanks for the lovely day. ’Bye, everybody,’ she shouted, before falling arse over tit on the driveway.
Debbie went into a fit of giggles as an embarrassed Peter tried to heave her mother off the ground and haul her into the cab. Karen and Mickey’s cab arrived ten minutes later.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, sis, about four o’clock,’ Mickey said, stroking the head of a comatose Alfie who lay snoring gently in his arms.
Charlie stood in the hallway listening to the following day’s arrangements with interest.
As Steve tidied up, Debbie washed the remaining plates, cups and glasses. Gracie and Rosie had gone to bed and Charlie was rather surprisingly in the shower. Pleased to have his wife to himself for five minutes, Steve hugged her tightly and kissed her gently on the lips. ‘It went well today, didn’t it?’
Born Evil Page 19
